


In the Morning I'll Be Sober (Will You Still Be Here?)

by nerdyydragon



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Ficlets [37]
Category: Kingsman (2014), Kingsman (2015), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Roxy's mentioned but doesn't appear, Young ! Harry, and by "mild" Eggsy gets roaring drunk, early morning phonecalls, mild alcoholism, same age au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 14:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8537395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyydragon/pseuds/nerdyydragon
Summary: Emotional processing was something Eggsy struggled to deal with - thank-you, Dean Anthony Baker, step-dad of the year award goes to you - and it generally never led to a good outcome. Just this once, Eggsy wanted it to be different.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing about this except the pain I put this poor smol egg through.

Looking around at the vast array of empty liquor bottles around him, Eggsy figured he was well past his limit as to what could be considered “drunk”, even for him. He hadn’t been this drunk since before he started working for Kingsman, and even then it was a rare occurrence. Normally he wouldn’t go through nearly this much alcohol, at least not by himself, but that didn’t really matter.

What mattered was that he was laying on his living room floor with bottles of whiskey scattered across the carpet (he had drank one martini and then continued to pilfer his cabinet, finally giving in and drinking the stronger stuff straight out of the bottle), trying desperately to fill a hole in his chest, right where his heart should have been. After a rather enlightening conversation with Roxy about three hours earlier, Eggsy had come to the conclusion that he was in love with Harry Hart, who was far out of his reach despite being someone who he knew far too well to be considered anything less than a very good friend. His reaction, deliberately setting aside her advice that he should take a chance and talk to the man, was to immediately try and drink it away in hopes that he could flush it out of his system before he had the opportunity to mess up a friendship.

Eggsy pulled his mobile from his pocket and stared blankly at the screen for a moment, then pressed the app to make a phone call and dialing Harry before he could think better of it. He pressed the phone to his ear and hoped to god that the man on the other end would let it go to voicemail at one in the morning. Sober-Eggsy would definitely hate him for this in the morning.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Harry Hart.” The automated recreation of the man said. “If you’re listening to this, I can’t come to the phone right now, so if you could leave a message, I will get back to you as soon as I can.”

He wasn’t sure how many times he had listened to that exact voice message while Harry or himself had been out on a mission and he had craved some sort of contact with the man. Despite being close in age, Eggsy had always felt that Harry was so far out of his league that he never had a chance of progressing things further, no matter how bad the yearning got. It was almost as if the distance between them in physical miles directly correlated to how much Eggsy’s heart longed to be near him, the distance feeling infinite even when they were in the same room.

“Eggsy, what is it? Are you alright?” That was Harry’s voice. He must have picked up after the voicemail message had played. But why was he awake at this hour? Surely it was a fluke, and that he was hallucinating the whole thing. Harry was notorious for never answering phone calls, at least according to anyone who wasn’t Eggsy, and even sometimes  _ he  _ got bounced to voicemail. “Eggsy?”

“M'fine, Haz.” Eggsy pinched the bridge of his nose at his own stupidity; Harry had answered despite all odds, and as early as it was, wouldn’t let him hang up without a proper explanation. “Just - uh - well…”

“You don’t sound well. Do you need me to come over?” It was the concern in his voice that got to him. Before better judgement could be employed, Eggsy was telling him that he would like that very much, and that there was a spare key under the mat. “I’m on my way. Keep yourself hydrated if you can.”

Twenty five minutes later there was the sound of a key in the door that marked Harry’s quiet entrance into his house. Eggsy followed the sound of footsteps until they stopped in the doorway nearest him. The room tilted sideways as he turned his head to be able to see his visitor, and he groaned at the pain thrumming his head.

“Oh, Eggsy.” Harry sighed, making his way over and helping him up. “Why have you done this to yourself?”

“Missed you.” Eggsy mumbled into Harry’s shoulder, too much alcohol in his system for him to employ any sort of verbal filter. “Needed to - to hear your voice.” Harry hummed and helped him up the stairs to the bedroom, trying his best to get him situated in the bed, even as limp as he was. Having filled the glass on the nightstand with water from the tap in the ensuite, Harry made to leave the room to get the man some aspirin for the morning when a hand wrapped limply around his wrist. “Stay. Please?” He asked, underneath the covers and out of danger of alcohol poisoning.

“Far be it from me to deny you anything,” Harry replied, making his way around the other side of the bed and getting himself comfortable. “Now go to sleep. Merlin will expect you to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow.”

“F'ya keep talkin’ ‘bout our handler while you’re in bed wit’ me,” Eggsy slurred, the alcohol beginning to hit him in full force, combined with the heat from Harry’s body and the lure of sleep. “I’ll start ta think you’ve got a thing for 'im. Gives a bloke th’ wrong idea.”

“Not a chance.” Harry said softly, pulling the other man toward his chest. Eggsy hummed against his collarbone and drifted off to sleep, content with his lot, and Harry followed not long after.

When morning came, it was full of wide eyes and stuttered apologies and half-attempted explanations, and shy glances over coffee at the table in the kitchen over the morning paper. Through the massive hangover he had procured from the night before, Eggsy managed to remember what exactly had gone on. It took him nearly a half hour to be able to properly look Harry in the eye. For his part, however, Harry wasn’t much better; he had woken to find the two of them tangled together, his head pressed into Eggsy’s collarbone from when he had rolled over at some point during the night. 

Maybe it was the sheer domesticity of it all, but if breakfast dates and bed-sharing became more commonplace between the two, well, that was nobody’s business but their own.


End file.
